A Good Idea?
by Thirsty19
Summary: Simba and Nala take a day off from the stress of restoring the kingdom and leave little Kopa in the care of his "uncles" Timon and Pumbaa. Good idea...right?
1. Chapter 1

"Alright, Kopa, stay away from the Graveyard."

"I will, Dad."

"And the Outlands."

"I will."

"And don't go anywhere near the river."

"I won't."

"And stay within sight of Pride Rock at all times."

"Okay."

"And make sure you—"

"Dad! Okay!" the young prince whined, yanking hard to free his tail from where it was trapped beneath Simba's massive paw. "I'll be good, I promise! Can you please let me go now? _Please_?"

Simba grinned despite himself, waiting until his son was in the throes of a particularly hard pull before releasing his hold. His laughter was full and strong as he watched the little cub roll backwards into the grass, and when a blur of golden fur jumped back out and attacked him, he was not surprised.

"Why are you always so mean to me?" Kopa grumbled. He strained against his father's massive weight in an attempt to push Simba down. But the king simply swiped a paw over the young cub's frame, pulled him into his chest and locked his arm around his head. He began licking Kopa's face and the small patch of brown-red hair that crowned it.

Kisses. The spoils of his victory.

"Dad! Dad, gross!" the prince protested, pushing hard against Simba for freedom. "One day…I'm gonna be...as big as you…and then…you won't be able to…do this…DAD!"

Laughing perhaps more than he had done in a good few weeks, the Lion King of the Pride Lands finally, fully released his son. Kopa was quick to embrace his liberty and scampered several feet away, frantically trying to restore his _mane_ to its former glory.

Simba smiled as he observed the child's struggle, seeing himself for a moment reflected in Kopa's features and movements. "Okay, son?"

The prince scowled, "No."

"Kopa…"

"You messed up my mane."

Simba forced down another laugh, "Come here, buddy."

"Nuh-uh."

"Come on. I'll leave you and your mane alone."

Kopa looked skeptical, "Promise?"

"I promise."

Biting hard on the inside of his cheek, and encouraging himself to maintain a convincing pout, the young cub made his way back through the grass and sat down in front of his father. The king lowered himself onto his belly and met his son's eyes.

"Are you excited?" he asked.

Kopa's solemn pout cracked a little at this question. He had been dying for weeks to spend a day with his two honorary uncles, and today was it! Oh, he was so excited, and he couldn't help smiling a bit as he nodded his agreement. He was sure his father had no idea how excited he was. Timon and Pumbaa were always great fun and coming up with adventures and games. The prince was sure that if his mother knew the half of some of the things he got up to with them, the pair would probably be banned from the Pride Lands, honorary uncles or not. But she didn't know. And in truth, that was half the fun.

"I don't know what we're gonna do," Kopa ventured quietly to his father. "They told me it was a surprise."

"And I bet it will be a good one," Simba said with a smile, remembering all of the fun he had had as a cub with the meerkat and warthog. He paused and raised an eyebrow, "But I do want you to remember the rules, young cub."

The prince groaned, his head falling down into his chest, "Da-ad…"

"Kopa, I just need you to be careful, alright?" the king explained, tilting his head to meet the cub's green eyes. "This is the first time you're going with them without a lion to protect you, and the land is still not as safe as it was when I was your age…And Timon and Pumbaa can be juvenile themselves at the best of times…Just promise me, that whatever they want to do, you'll follow the rules. Can you do that?"

"If I do will you stop talking about the rules?"

Simba cocked a grin, "Maybe. But you're not going anywhere until you promise me."

Kopa rolled his eyes, "I promise I'll follow the rules and be careful."

"Good boy."

In the next moment, Timon and Pumbaa could be seen as little specks in the distance, making their way towards the grassy plain beneath Pride Rock where the father and most eager son awaited them.

"Dad, there they are! Come on!" the prince urged, rushing from his father's side to join his favorite uncles some yards ahead.

Smiling softly to himself, Simba stood and followed at a more leisurely pace after his son.

This was a good idea.

Kopa would follow the rules to the best of his ability as promised, enjoy the day with his uncles, and Simba could enjoy a well-earned day of peace with his beloved mate. Turning his head slightly to survey the western landscape, the king imagined the surprise and joy that would mark Nala's face when he met her told her the news. An entire day. All. To. Themselves.

Since having taken the throne a little under four months ago, Simba could not recall a single one of those such days—or an hour, or a moment all to himself for that matter. Since Scar was defeated and the hyenas banished, his days were full of patrolling, of surveying the land and listening to Zazu's dreadful reports, of chasing lingering hyenas. Nala's days were equally full. And Kopa…their dear son…He was a full time job by himself.

But today would be their day.

This was a great idea.

"What's that for?" Kopa asked as he father drew near enough to hear.

Curious, Simba turned away from the west and focused in on his present surroundings. Timon was smiling between the king and the prince. Kopa had sat down and cocked his head at Pumbaa who bore several yards of vine and a rather large, hollow log in his tusks.

Simba rose an eyebrow, "Yeah…What is that for, guys?"

Timon grinned, "Nice to see ya, buddy. This place is really comin' along, ain't it, Pumbaa? I was just saying how green the trees…"

"Timon."

"How green the trees are getting. And the herds are really coming back fast, huh?"

"Timon, what is that stuff Pumbaa is carrying?"

"Oh, that stuff?" the meerkat shrugged, leaning with forced indifference against Pumbaa's leg. "That's nothin'. Just some vines and some wood…"

Simba felt himself growing faintly frustrated, "What is it _for_, Timon?"

"I told you; it's nothin'. Now about those herds…"

"Timon!"

"Come on, Dad," Kopa whined, his pout back and in full force. "The fun hasn't even started yet, and you're ruining it. I told you I'd be good."

But the king ignored his son, zeroing in on the two babysitters, "Alright, guys. Here's the deal: No swinging from vines. No climbing 20 foot tall trees. No rolling my son down hills in logs. No river. No danger. Got it?"

Pumbaa nodded, immediately dropping the items he carried and swiftly smashing them to tiny pieces beneath his feet. He gave a mock salute, "Yes, sire!"

Both Timon and Kopa laughed, but Simba remained quite sober.

"I mean it, guys. This is my son."

Timon cocked his head to the side as he surveyed the king, "And who was it that coached you through your childhood, teenhood, and young adulthood years, hm?"

"He's got a point," the warthog noted.

Simba sighed, "Kopa is not me, and this is not the oasis."

"He's got a point, Timon."

"Listen, I'm counting on you to keep him safe..."

"Simba, relax," Timon said, fondly petting the young cub at his side. "He'll be fine. It'll be just like old times."

"_Timon!_"

"What Timon meant to say was that we'll keep the little guy safe and out of danger," Pumbaa appeased, stepping in front of his companion with a wide smile. "You can count on us!"

The king looked over Pumbaa at Timon and cocked an eyebrow.

The meerkat waved his hand dismissively, "Yeah, yeah, that's what I meant. Now go find your wife before she gets back from her hunt and the surprise is ruined."

Taking a deep breath, Simba looked down upon his son, who had been quite amused by the majority of the display. It was like that to some degree every time he was left in the care of his esteemed uncles, worse when his mother was involved, but he knew he was never in any danger of losing his time with Timon and Pumbaa. Despite whatever fuss they made, Nala and Simba both trusted the odd couple explicitly…granted, they didn't know half of what went on when the pair were left in charge of Kopa…but to the young cub, their ignorance was his bliss.

"Alright, buddy," the king said, leaning down to fondly nuzzle his son. "You remember your promise to me?"

Eager for his father to finally leave, Kopa forced himself to be solemn, "Yes, Dad."

"Good. Don't forget it, okay? Your mother and I'll be back this afternoon."

He nodded, and Simba straightened, allowing himself to grin upon his two, dearest friends. "Thanks, guys. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your doing this. I know Nala will too."

Timon shrugged gruffly, "Don't mention it."

"Enjoy yourself!" Pumbaa said.

And with one last glance over his shoulder, Simba turned and began after his mate, fighting the doubt that was steadily creeping into his mind. If Nala saw he was unsure, they would be together only half an hour and most of that time would be spent racing back towards Pride Rock. No, this was a good idea.

A great idea.

Yes. GREAT.

It had to be.

For the sake of his own sanity if nothing else.


	2. Chapter 2

Kopa pawed uneasily at the pale, softly shivering surface of the waterhole, quirking an eyebrow at the meerkat who stood ankle deep within it a few steps in front of him. "You're going to teach me to do what?"

"To swim."

"To what?"

"To _swim. _You know…" Losing some, but surely not all of his enthusiasm, Timon made short, splashing motions in the water with his hands. "Swim?"

"Oh. Right…"

"Jeesh. I thought I was pretty clear the first time. Don't you know what swimming is, kid?"

The young prince nodded, "Well, yeah…"

"Well, what's the problem? Come on. You gotta get in it first."

Timon turned from his charge and made to walk deeper into the cloudy pool, humming contentedly as the cold water soothed his sun-warmed fur.

Kopa swallowed a bit, glancing up at the rust colored warthog standing beside him who, he had already been informed, had elected to be activity supervisor for…personal reasons. But while both of his dear uncles were sometimes slow in "catching the mouse," Pumbaa had always been more intuitive of the two. It was he who noticed through the glance Kopa's hesitation, and it was he who accordingly called out to Timon and made him notice it as well.

"Huh? What?" The meerkat turned from his own bliss to study his companions on the shore with a furrowed brow. "What do you mean he doesn't want to swim? He's Simba's cub, isn't he?"

Kopa cocked his head as these words filtered in and through his mind. "My dad can swim?" he asked, glancing between his supervisors.

"_Can_ swim?" Timon huffed, turning away again to sink deeper into the water. "Simba loves to swim."

"Really?"

Pumbaa nodded, "Yup. When he lived with us at the oasis, it was the first thing he did every morning."

"Wow…Really?"

"Yes, _really_. Really, really, really. Now get in, kiddo," Timon groused impatiently. "You sound like a parrot."

The cub was unfazed, "Uncle Timon, why didn't Dad tell me he could swim?"

Laying to float on his back, the meerkat sighed, "Eh…That was probably Nala's doing. Whatcha think, buddy?"

"Yeah." The warthog nodded softly in somber agreement. "Sounds about right…"

Timon waved his hand in the direction of the young prince, "And there's your answer, Kopa. So you gonna get in or what?"

Kopa silently watched Timon begin to cut seamless lines into the water's surface. He wasn't sure what he wanted. It looked fun enough, and knowing that his mother wouldn't approve made the idea tempting, but, in truth, he was still reeling over the fact that his father could swim. He could move in the water just like Timon was doing right now, close his eyes and slice pretty ripples into its face. It was hard to picture in his mind, seeing the king so…prone and…carefree. But it was a nice thought. _And maybe_, Kopa pondered with growing enthusiasm, _if I learn how to swim, Dad'll come swim with me sometimes_.

That was a nice thought too.

Taking a deep breath, Kopa resolved to overcome his present anxiety. If his father could swim, so could he.

"Okay. I…I'm coming," the prince called out, daring to step forward a bit.

Timon turned at the summons and stood up. The water came up to just above his hips, and in the pose of a true instructor, he placed his hands directly upon them.

"Alright, Kopa. Lesson numero uno: Stand in the Water."

The young prince swallowed once more. "O-Okay...um…"

"Just put all four of your feet in the water," Pumbaa coached gently from behind him.

"I-In the water?"

The warthog nodded, stepping into a few inches of it himself to give the unnecessary demonstration.

Kopa took another step. "In…Inside of the water?"

"For crying out loud!" Timon grumbled, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "Yes!"

Glaring suspiciously at the shifting surface, the cub took another step. Instantly, at feeling the water on his paw, he jumped back, a low hiss vibrating in his throat.

"It appears that he isn't going to learn the way Simba did," Pumbaa hummed. "Perhaps he inherited his mother's ideas about water. Timon?"

The meerkat had begun massaging his temple sometime while his friend was talking, and now spoke in a somewhat muffled, slow tone. "Maybe so, Pumbaa."

With his brow furrowing thoughtfully, the warthog looked up from his sulking charge, "What if we try over there…"

* * *

**Meanwhile, somewhere on the plain...**

The young zebra he had killed was more than enough for the two of them and after eating his fill alongside his mate, Simba had reclined against the base of a fully-leaved Acadia tree. Nala rested against his chest, giving soft, contented noises as she dosed in the shade.

The king was smiling, admiring her beauty from above.

Success was sweet.

"My treasure," he crooned.

Nala grinned, blinking up at her mate with bright eyes. "My love."

Simba nuzzled her neck, "Are you enjoying yourself?"

Stretching herself gently, the queen nodded.

"Enjoying your day off from hunting and counseling and mothering and…"

Nala smiled, "Simba, you know I could never take a day off from being Kopa's mother. That's like taking a day off from being your wife. I couldn't do that."

Simba, who had continued warmly nuzzling her neck, grinned into her soft coat, "Alright then. But you have enjoyed a break from everything else?"

"Yes," the queen assured, nuzzling him tenderly in return. "Very much. And you are wonderful for doing this for me."

The king felt a proud smile creeping across his lips, just as Nala pulled slightly away from him and held his dark, auburn eyes with her own. "This has all been wonderful, my love. Truly…but, like I've just said, not even this lovely morning could make me forget about my baby."

Simba dropped his head with a low groan, "Nala…"

"You didn't answer my question before, Simba," the queen reminded firmly, watching her mate's face. "Who's looking after him?"

"He's with the guys," the king surrendered with a sigh, deciding it was best to be frank. "Timon and Pumbaa."

The queen nodded, "And who's with them?"

Simba sighed once more, "No one."

"No one!"

"Yes, Nala. Now, just listen to me. Kopa and I went over the rules in detail before I left him. He promised me he'd behave, and Timon and Pumbaa assured me they'd keep him safe."

Nala sat up, looking with astonishment upon her mate, "Simba, Kopa is a child. And Timon and Pumbaa are hardly more than children themselves. How could you leave them alone…?"

The king took a deep, focusing breath.

"Sweetheart," he began, sitting up with her. "I know they can be that way, but they looked out for me in the oasis. I would have died if it hadn't been for them, and I trust them to look after Kopa now…It's a good plan. He'll be fine."

Nala closed her eyes, willing herself to argue his point, but she couldn't. Not that there weren't gaps in the logic, but she couldn't reduce Timon and Pumbaa after what he had said. She just couldn't. Immature as the duo was, they had rescued Simba, kept him alive (albeit on worms) and happy for years, brought him back to her…

And she was grateful. Forever grateful. And she was forced to trust them for that alone.

Releasing a gentle sigh of her own, the queen nodded. Her eyes opened to the reassuring face of her beloved. She nodded again, "Alright."

Simba grinned, "Good…Now don't worry about him. Everything will be fine. Let's go take a walk, okay? Down by the river?"

Nala allowed herself a small, amused smirk at her husband's well-aimed attempt to please and distract her. It wouldn't work for all his aims, but why not let him dream?

Besides, she did love the river.

* * *

"Yes!" Timon exclaimed, "This place is perfect. I'm so glad I thought of it!"

The meerkat's excitement had been fully restored, perhaps even amplified at their change in location. It wasn't as nice as the river would have been, but it was well shaded and the mid-morning sun coming through the reeds gave it all a very familiar feel. All that was really missing were the vines._ Which Simba banned us from enjoying... _He groused silently for hardly a second, and then contented himself with the wealth of what lay stretched out before him.

Looking down from the overhang with satisfied sigh, Timon ran headlong over the edge and performed a perfect dive into the water below.

As he watched Timon's body vanish over the side of the ledge, Kopa's eyes widened to an impossible extent. He was entirely frightened by what his uncle's fate had been. Crushed? Mangled? Otherwise destroyed? Body parts strewn across that deceptively soft surface? He shook with the fear of it, and yet the young cub was forced by an overwhelming surge of concern to belly-crawl over to the edge of the outcrop and see for himself.

"T-Timon?"

He gazed at the still surface for what felt like an eternity before Timon's small head bobbed to the surface, along with the rest of his long form.

"Come on in, buddy!" he called, cutting a picturesque backstroke through the fluid below. "The water's fine!"

Kopa was both and simultaneously relieved to see the meerkat in one piece and terrified even more by what he said. His words tripped on his tongue, "C-C-Come i-in?"

"Lesson numero uno revised: _Jump_ in the Water."

"J-Jump?"

Timon began treading water and nodded up at his pupil, "Jump right off. Just like I did."

"J-J-Jump _off?"_

Pumbaa came up beside the trembling prince then, smiling as he glanced down at Timon. "Isn't this better?" he questioned the cub. "This way you get wet all at once."

"Right!" Timon championed from the pool. "And if you start to sink, Pumbaa will save you!"

Kopa gazed with wide eyes between his crazy uncles, "C-Can we go back to the shore? I think I liked that better."

"We already walked all this way, Kopa."

Timon nodded his agreement, "Yep, no turning back now. You just gotta do it."

The cub whined, "Ti-mon…"

"Listen, kid. It's just like jumping on land. You jump and then you land and then you start walking…well, swimming, but you move your legs the same as when you walk."

Kopa groaned again, intently wishing that he had never agreed to this. In his mind he was resorting to a new low: analyzing his father's rules in the hope that what he was about to do would break one and thereby excuse him. The ledge terrified him, truly, but it wasn't any higher than the rocks he pounced from at the base of Pride Rock, so jumping from it couldn't count as putting himself in danger. And even if he started sinking, Pumbaa would save him so that wasn't dangerous either…The closest thing he could come up with was being within sight of Pride Rock…which they were, technically. He could see it clearly from where he stood, but if he was in the water it would become blotted out by the reeds.

Chewing on his lip, he pondered whether or not that would work.

And while Kopa was chewing and Timon was swimming and Pumbaa was standing, a pair of large, yellow eyes emerged slowly from beneath the murky water surrounding the reeds. Watching. Waiting.

Timon yawned, floating now on his back as he closed his eyes, "Alright, kiddo. Let me know when you're about to jump. I'm gonna take a nap."

The young prince whined, stepping a little closer to the edge, "Aww, don't, Timon. I hardly ever see you. You can't sleep now."

"Tired of waitin', kid."

Pumbaa whispered against Kopa's ear, "I'll help you, buddy."

"No, Uncle Pumbaa, that's okay…"

Yellow eyes shifted, drew nearer to the odd trio as Pumbaa scampered quickly to place himself behind the uneasy lion cub. He lowered his snout towards the ground, kicked his back legs against the fine silt covering the ledge. "You ready?"

Kopa spun, "No, I'm not!"

"Oh, great idea, Pumbaa," Timon praised. "Go on. He'll be fine."

The warthog gave Kopa a smile, "One…"

"Don't, really! I'm not ready!"

"Two…"

The prince backed away as far as he dared against the ledge, preparing himself for the inevitable, terrible doom that awaited him. Below and among the reeds, circular ripples cut across the water as the yellow eyes re-submerged. A tapered point coated in hard scales disturbed the water a few inches below the surface, propelled the eyes forward.

Faster.

"Two and a half…"

"Are you ready now, Kopa?" Timon asked.

"No! No, no, no, no…"

"Too late."

"Three!"

Pumbaa charged, giving the cub a light but firm shove over the ledge. The Lion Prince of the Pride Lands was flying through the air.

Droplets of water flew as the crocodile leapt out to join him.

Its mouth wide open.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:** Hi, everyone...I know it's been ages since I updated, but I hope this satisfies expectations and makes up for the delay. This chapter was particularly hard for me to write. I knew what I wanted to do with it, but how I got there took a bunch of wrong turns and resulted in many deleted files. In the end though, I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. I hope you all like it. Please review! Such little notes from readers make me happy inside and give me encouragement to carry on:)

* * *

Zazu spread out his wings as an updraft of warm air bore him higher above the earth's surface. His feathers rippled with the weight of supporting him. The muscles of his shoulders and back relaxed. His eyes almost closed.

And then he remembered why it was that he had sought out this lift in the first place.

The higher he went, the deeper his perspective on the savanna became, the vast expanse spreading out beyond his vision in endless tones of green and brown. Keen eyes scoured the landscape. He searched. He grumbled in frustration. Miles vanished behind him only to have just as many more appear ahead of him.

"Those fools…Where are they?"

As he considered venturing out further from Pride Rock, the sounds of sudden commotion reached his ears:

"Great flaming bananas, Pumbaa! How could you do that? It was a terrible idea!"

"You agreed!"

"I just knew this was going to happen! Why don't you ever listen to me?"

"Well, if you hadn't—"

"Oh, it's getting away! Faster, Pumbaa! RUN!"

Turning in the direction of the voices, Zazu's descent was swift. Before he even had a chance to understand what was happening, the royal advisor had swooped down into a high speed chase of the strangest kind. He flapped his sore wings passionately to keep up with the swift trot of Pumbaa (with Timon astride him), who was racing to keep up with a crocodile swimming with its head held high above the water. Zazu thought it strange. Thought it even stranger that the golden lump of fur clutched firmly within its jaws was still alive _and_ wriggling in what he could only guess was a weak attempt to escape. Crocodiles were vicious, dangerous creatures after all. It was all very strange. But strange or not strange, it made no difference. The queen had been quite plain in her orders to him: Find the buffoons. Ensure Kopa's safety. Report back.

Simple. Easy.

Why the fools were running mattered not a wit, and Zazu was sure the queen would share his opinion on the subject.

"Pumbaa!" he hollered.

It sounded like a gnat to the warthog. A tiny gnat several yards away, buzzing against the thick, confining walls of a toad's mouth. In essence, with all of his senses trained on the movement of that large reptile in the water, he heard nothing.

Neither did Timon.

Zazu was frustrated, "Pumbaa!"

"He's calling out to me!" the warthog announced, his hopes rising and his pace quickening. "Don't worry, buddy! Uncle Pumbaa's comin'!"

The hornbill swooped down to perch on the warthog's back. Struggling to stay in place, he began pecking fiercely at the tough hide beneath his feet. Getting no response from that, he moved forward and jabbed Timon sharply in the side.

"Oww!"

The meerkat spun. Unfortunately, it took a moment for recognition to dawn.

"What _is_ the _matter_ with you?" he hissed. "DON'T YOU SEE I'M TRYING TO SAVE THE _PRINCE OF THE PRIDE LANDS_ FROM THE JAWS OF A FEROCIOUS MONSTER?"

Zazu gapped, uncomprehending.

And then Timon came back to reality, his eyes wider and rounder than any beetle he'd ever consumed. "Oh…Oh, Z-Zazu…You're here…Uh, um…D-Did I say prince? Cause I meant to say um…"

As the meerkat fumbled around for something to say, Zazu turned his attention slowly back towards the crocodile. Keen eyes peered at that familiar golden pelt, caught a glimpse of those green eyes Simba was so in love with wide with fear.

He went hysterical.

"KOPA! We have to save him!"

"Right," Timon nodded. "And what do you suggest?"

Without wasting time to answer, the majordomo was off, soaring the short distance over the water and hovering there. He practically shouted at the crocodile: "By the authority of King Simba, I demand you stop swimming and return that cub to the shore at once, crocodile!"

Yellow eyes shifted towards the sun and then refocused on the far shore some yards ahead. The reptile kept swimming.

Pumbaa rounded a bend and came to a stop directly where it looked like the croc was swimming too. Timon's coaching sounded loud against his ears, "Alright, Pumbaa. As soon as it lets go of Kopa, you rush in, swipe up the kid and run back into the brush. I'll already be back there waitin' for ya."

"Timon…I-I don't like that plan."

"What? It's flawless." the meerkat assured, already scrambling down Pumbaa's back as the crocodile drew closer. "If that big thing didn't chow down on Kopa what makes you think it'll eat you instead?"

Swallowing hard, the warthog began listing his reasoning, "Well, I'm bigger first of all. And less hairy and probably tastier…and probably more nutritious seeing as how I eat things closer to the bottom of the food chain…Timon? T-Timon?"

Zazu swooped down, squawking and pecking incessantly at the crocodile's head, "Let." _peck_ "Him." _peck_ "Go!" _peck peck peck peck…_

"Pumbaa!" Timon called from behind a bush some yards back, "Remember: swipe and run!"

But it sounded like nothing at all to the warthog. He could hear nothing except the pant of his breathing, the rush of blood in his ears. It was getting closer. Zazu was antagonizing it. Kopa was fine. He could see that, but Zazu was frantic and making it angry. It was going to end Zazu's annoying pestering for good and eat him, but that wouldn't be enough. It looked really hungry. It was going to drop Kopa (too much hair and not enough meat), eat Zazu and then come after the closest large animal it could find. Pumbaa was large. And very…very close…_now_.

The crocodile was massive, hoisting itself out and above the water it stood seventeen feet long and pointed its long snout down at the trembling warthog. Kopa's front and rear ends stuck out from either side. The cub's eyes were closed.

Zazu was still pecking. "How dare you! You have committed a terrible, treasonous act! You will be punished severely! You will be punished!"

As the hornbill swooped around the back of the animal, he came in direct contact with its long, scale-studded tail. A powerful wall of muscle that could move with speed and the bite of a whip. It was an intentional move on the crocodile's part. Zazu was out-cold in the mud within seconds.

Pumbaa shivered.

The reptile's yellow orbs narrowed at the warthog as it lowered its bottom jaw and allowed the soaking wet prince to land, unscathed upon the earth below. Kopa curled into it, happier than he had ever been in his life to have all four paws secure on solid ground. In addition, he wanted a bath bad—also a first.

"Pumbaa!" Timon hissed again from the sidelines. "Swipe and run! Swipe and run!"

The warthog, however, was staring. In awe. In confusion. In frustration. Not at Kopa, or at Zazu, but straight into the mouth that hung slightly open inches from his face.

"Y-You're…You're _toothless_?!"

The question came out with more energy that even Pumbaa realized in the moment. He watched, dumbfounded as the crocodile swiped its tongue over one side of its absolutely tooth-free gums.

Timon charged from the underbrush, indignant and disbelieving. "It's WHAT?"

A hard frown formed on the scaly reptile's lips, "My name is Laini, tiny rodent. I am not an 'it.'"

"Rodent!" Timon was incensed. "I'm not a rodent!"

"No need to lie," the crocodile assured. "Do not worry. I do not eat rodents."

Offended even further by the condescending tone of the reptile's voice, the meerkat nearly growled, "And princes are more appealing to you?"

The reptile cocked its head, "No…What is prince?"

"Wh—That!" Timon jabbed both hands down at the shivering ball of fur still just beneath the crocodile. "That is prince, you waterlogged rag of scales! _The_ Prince! The thing you just tried to drown and eat at the same time!"

The yellow eyes narrowed, "I said no eat prince, tiny rodent."

"Oh, really? And what would you call it."

"Laini, _save_. I save tiny lion cub from you and large friend."

"Save?"

"Yes."

"SAVE?"

"Yes," the crocodile repeated. "You were pushing and laughing. Trying to drown. I save."

Timon fumed, "We. Were. Teaching. Him. How. To. Swim."

Laini shook her head, "Is not how you teach. You is terrible nanny."

"What!"

"You make dangerous and poor example for little cub. I take back to parents."

The meerkat did growl at that (the best he could as…you know…a meerkat), "You _will not_ be taking him anywhere. His parents left him in our charge. You think I'm dangerous? You're a crocodile, for Kings sake!"

Pumbaa spoke up softly, "S-She is toothless, Timon."

"Pumbaa!"

"Sorry."

"Listen, you!" Timon grumbled, "You are _not_ taking, Kopa."

"I am."

"You are not!"

"I am."

"Are not!"

"Am to."

"No!"

"Yes."

Kopa had, sometime during all this, managed to stand up.

He checked himself over as his mother had always taught him to do, making sure he was free of blood and cuts and other unpleasant things. Then he stood for what felt like an eternity watching Timon argue with the crocodile. The sun warmed his fur fairly quickly, and he leaned against the solid form of Pumbaa, who was also watching the argument escalate and recede and grow again. He started wondering if both he and Pumbaa were suffering from some kind of aftershock, with the way they were just staring and not moving. He wondered if Zazu was going to get up anytime soon. And then he started thinking it was probably close to lunchtime. His stomach accordingly got hungry.

And growled once. Really loudly.

So loud that both Timon and the crocodile stopped their arguing and looked down at him. Their eyes were piercing, wide with a mix of confusion and remembrance.

Kopa swallowed hard, "Um…I didn't mean to…interrupt, but um…Uncle Timon? I'm really hungry."


End file.
